


Peaches

by OthilaOdal



Category: Death Note
Genre: Love, M/M, One Shot, Sunsets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 23:58:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3956758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OthilaOdal/pseuds/OthilaOdal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the life of runaway orphan boys, chasing after a murdering god, there is never any time for fun. Life is all lemons, and no peaches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peaches

He let his back arc backwards, hanging at an odd angle from the bridge, gripping tight onto the railing. The sky was burning; red, gold, purple and the brightest shade of pink, that dyed Mello’s hair. He could pull off the look. He seemed to be having no problems.

“You’re going to fall backwards into the river” Mello warned him.

“You’d catch me, won’t you?” He grinned at Mello, rubbed a little of his knee against Mello’s leg.

“From where I’m standing and at the angle you are at,” Mello reasoned. “It’d be very difficult. You might dislocate your shoulder.”

Matt pulled himself back up and pouted at Mello. His dark brows crumpled together.

“You’re no fun!” He whined. “Play a little.”

He nudged Mello with his leg again.

“This is no time for fun.”

“When is it ever time for fun?” His voice grew melancholy. Mello had to glance sideways. Matt wasn’t sporting the smile. His eyes were always something deep, something that said more than his words could, like his questions weren’t rhetorical, like he wanted Mello to give him real answers. It was too much. Mello had to look away.

“I don’t know.” He said, feeling the boy lean in as soon as the words left his lips.

“Never.” Matt whispered softly in Mello’s ear, wisps of Mello’s hair softly brushing against his lips.

Mello’s eyes met the redhead’s. He was always so enchanting, angelic, other-worldly, marching to the beat of drums only he could hear. And when he looked at Mello the way he was right now, with eyes urging him to come closer, in a tongue no one but Mello could understand, there was only him left in Mello’s world, no one else dared to exist.

Mello’s lips lightly touched Matt’s. He hadn’t been aware of gravitating towards him. But he did. He was always gravitating towards him. Even when they were younger, before their voices had broken and before their needs had grown, in the classrooms, in the mess during dinner, Mello gravitated towards him. And even now, in his car, on their couch, at a diner over lunch, Mello always leaned slightly into him, like a plant growing slowly towards the sun.

“There’s never time for fun. Life hands you nothing but lemons.” Matt whispered. His lips rubbed softly against Mello’s. And just before his warmth swallowed Mello, he said:

“You gotta steal the peaches yourself."


End file.
